The Deathsinger Sang a Lullaby
by Gwoo Wowarr
Summary: A lifeboat has washed up on the Shadow Isles and inside is a baby girl. Karthus decides to raise her, but for what sinister purpose? He will learn that keeping a tiny life alive in this desolate landscape is far more difficult than imagined and also far more rewarding. A sometimes serious, sometimes sweet story about the undead trying to raise a child. (League of Legends)
1. Chapter 1

The spirits on the Shadow Isles were restless. The waves washed over the rocky coast, lapping against the dark stone in a ceaseless drone. But now, a noise not heard for some time on these shores could be heard. It was the steady _thunk thunk_ of waves slapping the side of a boat.

Karthus, the dreaded lich of the Isles, floated silently over the land. He sensed the disturbance through the lesser spirits that were bound to him, and he followed them to the source. There in the distance he saw the source of the commotion; a small life boat washed up on the shore. Tendrils of the Black Mist curled about it while above, wraiths weaved in the air and swooped low over it. Kathus approached and the restless spirits drew back with a low wail. And then came another sound, only faintly heard over the waves and wails. It was a soft cooing.

Karthus peered down into the small boat and beheld an infant. Unbothered by his piercing, icy stare, the baby starred back up at him and smiled. She continued to coo as he picked her up and held her out. Instantly, the spirits began to circle Kathus, curious about the tiny life held in his dead hands, but they did not attack. Kathus examined the baby, his own curiosity having been piqued.

She was pale and cool, and, most surprisingly, unharmed. No injuries from spirit attacks were visable, nor did she show any major signs of the Isles sapping away her vitality. Her eyes followed the spirits around her with the same interest that they showed in her.

"Child," Karthus's voice echoed, "Who are you?"

As foolish as it was to ask an infant for any information, Karthus could not help himself. She was too young to understand how beautiful unlife was, so she could not have come here herself looking for it. It was far more likely that her lifeboat had simply floated astray and washed up here by accident.

"Why are you here?"

Again the baby was unable to answer his questions. Instead, the Black Mist answered for him. It ghosted over from the boat to reach out towards the baby. It wrapped about Kathus's arms and in that moment, the lich knew what was expected of him. She had not floated here by accident.

"I know why you are here."

He brought the child closer to him, wrapping her swaddling cloth protectively around her. Her tiny fingers gripped at the edge of his robe and the Mist billowed away. With the baby held tightly and his spirits hovering about him, Karthus set himself on a path home.

He did not make it home before the furious sound of hoof beats broke the silence. The spectral centaur, Hecarim, galloped up to him, sending the loose stones of the spraying away from him. Karthus turned away from this other specter in an attempt to hide the baby from him. Hecarim's foresight was short, his ability to be reasoned with shorter, and his patience shortest of all.

"Something is wrong," Hecarim's deep, hollow voice tolled, "I sense it. You must feel it too."

"The matter has been dealt with, Hecarim," Karthus answered in a steady tone, "return to your patrols on the far side of the island."

"But it is not dealt with, I feel it. There is life nearby."

"There is always life. Insects, fish, birds; animals always remain near."

"It is near and it is human."

As commanded by some cruel fate, the baby sneezed.

Hecarim loomed over Karthus and starred down with his eyes of flame. Karthus starred back upwards, his icy sockets no less intense.

"You have it," boomed Hecarim, "but you have not killed it."

"I was not meant to kill her."

"Give it to me. I will kill it."

No response.

Hecarim's hooves pawed the ground impatiently. The spirits around Kathus hissed. Neither took their eyes off each other. At last, Kathus broke the silence.

"Hecarim, you are restless. The Mist is not ready for the Harrowing, but if you must have your bloodshed now, go down to the beach and spear some fish. She will not be killed."

Hecarim snorted. The enormous brute reared and turned to gallop away.

"We shall see about that," were his parting words.

The infant in Karthus's arms began to whimper, and the lich had to turn his attention back to comforting her. His spirit host became restless again. Following an unspoken command, they shrieked as they spread out and searched for any other threats. They were safe for the moment, but Karthus knew that with Hecarim spreading word of a living human on the Isles that safety would be short lived. He hastened his return to his sanctuary.

The ruins of an ancient cathedral, Karthus's lair, towered before them. Many of its pinnacles and statues had long since fallen off and the windows, which once may have held spectacular rainbows of stained glass, were now empty. Despite the destruction of its beauty, the core of the building had remained intact. Best of all, the other inhabitants of the Isles gave it a wide berth, knowing that this was the lich's domain, but that was not the case on this day.

Karthus approached the heavy wooden door and they swung open to welcome their master home. The many spirits bound to him glided through the aisles or waited in the pews, but none of them dared approach the choir for fear of what waited there. Lounging in Karthus's throne-like cathedra was Thresh. The spirits of the cathedral cowered in the presence of this greater specter, with the boldest doing little more than hissing their displeasure at him.

"Hecarim tells me you have a gift for me, Karthus," resounded the voice of the Chain Warden, "it is appreciated, though I do find infants to be unengaging. It takes little to make them scream."

"Hecarim told you falsely," replied Karthus in a steady, stern tone, "she is not to be killed or maimed. She is mine."

"Oh," Thresh mused as he shifted in the chair, "and why would you keep such a weak, uninteresting, tiny mortal?"

"Because she has been chosen by the Isles."

Thresh threw his head back in laughter, causing the intimidated spirits to bolt even further from him.

"I told you he harbored a mortal," Hecarim said as he stepped forward from the transept in which he waited, "and now he speaks madness. The Isles would not choose the living to be its champion."

"Then what does that make me?" the hauntingly alluring voice called from the shadows where a large spider, bloated from a recent meal, crouched.

"You told Elise as well?" Kathus asked in disbelief.

"He did not," Elise answered as she stepped from the shadows. Crimson smoke rose from the spider and a woman, slender and deadly as a stiletto, emerged from it.

"I am never invited to anything," she finished.

"You are not welcome here, deceiver," Karthus said, voice harsh with disdain.

"I am pleased to see you as well, Deathsinger," Elise returned in mock courtesy, "Hecarim bellowed so loudly that I did not even need my little messengers to know what you had done."

She peered down at the bundle in Karthus's arms.

"And there's the baby herself. What an adorable little morsel."

"She will-" Karthus began but Elise cut him off.

"She will not be killed. I know. I have heard. I have no interest in killing the child, but she will die nonetheless, either by Hecarim's blade or wasting away."

Karthus clutched the infant even closer as he stood between these three predators, all of who were interested in her.

"I could help prevent that," she continued, "for a price, of course."

"Leave, Elise," he commanded, "neither you nor your god will have her. She will live, I will see to that."

Elise scoffed.

"As you wish, Karthus, but when you realize that you need me, you know where I can be found. I will be on the Isles for two more days before I sail for Noxus."

With that, she retreated to the shadows where, with a clicking sound of chitin, she regained her spider form and skittered away. Kathus returned his attentions to the front of his cathedral. Two remained.

"You allowed Elise to leave unharried, Hecarim," Karthus taunted.

"She is bound to the spider god," the horseman answered, "the Mist does not hunger for her."

"And neither does it hunger for the child," Karthus said, "no wraith, save you, has wished her harm."

"Oh, and why is that," Thresh inquired, "how do you know that Hecarim is the _only_ wraith that wishes her harm?"

Thresh rose from the chair, chains clanging, and walked to the edge of the choir. Karthus refused to be intimidated by the larger specter and spoke plainly.

"Because Hecarim is the only greater specter without long-term foresight."

Hecarim stamped his hooves against the pavement in a fury. Still, Karthus retained his level head.

"But that, Hecarim, is why you have allies. When I picked up this child, I heard the Mist speak to me. It told me that she would help spread its influence."

"And how will it do that? It can't even hold up its own head," Hecarim demanded.

"I do not know, but I know the answer will come when she is grown."

Hecarim snorted, displeased by Karthus's answer. Gliding through the choir, Karthus ascended towards the altar.

"Were she to extend the reach of the Mist, think about how each of our powers would grow," he continued, "Thresh, there would be nowhere your prey could hide from you. Hecarim, with the Mist growing more powerful, you may not even have to wait until the Harrowing to shed blood. Consider it."

Thresh tilted his head backwards as he thought of the lich's proposition. The idea of easier hunting appealed to him, but on another level, the idea of watching Karthus attempt to raise an infant intrigued him just as much. He wanted to see him struggle.

For Hecarim, his reaction was far less silent. He stamped and the ground, clenched his fists, and let the iron armor he was clad in rattle, but he did not speak out. As Karthus had begun to speak, more of his servile wraiths had begun to pour into the cathedral. There were enough that even Hecarim realized that were he to attack now, he would not be able to triumph over their number for long. And so he contained his rage for the time being.

By now the lich had reached the altar. He placed the baby on the cold stone. She reached her tiny hands up to grab at him, but the Black Mist had begun to rise and encircled her. Karthus showed no signs of worry.

"Hear me," he said, "henceforth, this child will be my daughter."

As he spoke, the Mist began circling the child faster. Tendrils rushed forward and wrapped around her, but she did not cry.

"A daughter of the Isles."

The Mist was now lifting her into the air, cradling her as gently as Karthus had.

"I name her,"

Unseen by the wraiths, a small sliver of Mist separated and was absorbed into her chest.

"Achlys."


	2. Chapter 2

"Could you repeat that again, Karthus," the coy voice of Elise asked, "I couldn't hear you."

"Achlys needs you aid," Karthus repeated, trying to contain his bitterness towards the woman as he spoke, "she may perish."

"Hmm, that is what I thought you had said, no apology for your rudeness in the cathedral."

Elise starred down at Karthus from her perch atop a crumbling old tower, the most recent ruin for her explorations. All along the length of the building, spiders crawled, searching every last shadow of the structure.

"Elise," he paused for a moment to draw forth a false, pleasant tone, "you shall have to forgive me for the way I behaved. I thought you intended to feed her to that accursed spider."

Elise smirked.

"I can see clear through to your disdain for me, Deathsinger, but I will accept your forced apology. Now, for the payment of my service,"

"Payment?" the lich questioned.

"Of course. She will require more than food, and I will bring it on my return trip from Noxus, but only if you swear to me one thing. I know she is hungry, Karthus, so you should accept my terms."

"I will consider accepting them after you state them."

"I do not think you will find them so unreasonable. I want you to stop interfering with my rituals with Lord Vilemaw."

"I have never once interfered with your actions within the cave, have I?"

Elise leapt from the tower, landing before the undead in one graceful move.

"Do not try to use half-truths against me," she hissed, "you may have never appeared yourself, but more than once have wraiths attacked my followers as we've moved through the Isles. I know they are yours. You will command your wraiths to vacate my territory."

A scowl, rigid and cold, form on the undead's face, but he did not lash out.

"I promise not to interfere with your deceit."

"A promise isn't good enough. I want you to swear it."

Karthus held out his staff.

"I swear on the Eternal Hunters. As long as you provide for Achlys, neither I nor my wraiths shall interfere with your ritual."

"Excellent," Elise said as her wicked smile returned to her face, "I will fetch her something now and will rejoin with you back in you cathedral."

Before Karthus could say any more, she moved with an inhuman swiftness into the woods. The clicking noise of chitinous legs moving rustled from the bushes as Elise skittered back to her own lair. Karthus scowled, displeased with the spider and himself. He despised her haughtiness to demand such terms from him, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Achlys must live.

Karthus returned to his lair. The spirits of his cathedral whirled about the towers in a panicked frenzy as the sound of Achlys crying was carried on the hollow winds of the Isles. The lich went to the chamber he had cleared as her room where two of his strongest wraiths circled over her makeshift as guards. His knobby fingers cradled her as he picked her up. Her crying ceased for a moment as she looked into his glowing eyes before screaming anew.

"Hush, Achlys," the lich said as gently as he could, "Elise will bring you food. The Isles would not bring you to me only to have you starve."

His words did little to console the infant.

She continued to wail in hunger until Elise arrived carrying a small pouch. A single chuckle escaped her and echoed through the empty hall as she beheld Karthus upon his cathedra with the child hugged to his chest.

"What a view you make for, Karthus," she clucked.

"Feed her, Elise," Karthus demanded, having had enough of her chatter earlier that day.

"Your rude behavior will get her nothing," she chastised, "you can start with a small show of gratitude, a simple 'thank you.' You wouldn't want to set a poor example for her."

"You gave your word, Elise, and thanks is often showed after the favor is performed. Help her and then you will have my gratitude."

Elise ascended the steps to Kathus and held out her hands. To Kathus, her red tipped nails may as well have been the bloody fangs of a beast, but at last, he placed the infant in them. Elise rocked Achlys gently cooed to the child with her soothing, venomous, voice.

"There, there, this is better, isn't it? I know, you just wanted a woman's touch, warmer than anything that corpse could have given you."

Achlys began to settle down as she instinctively groped at Elise's breats.

"Ah-ah, little bug," Elise said as she produced a waterskin from her pouch, "this is what I have for you."

She held the waterskin up to Achlys, who began to suckle on it.

"That is not the milk of a cow, is it?" Karthus asked.

"No, she is too young for that," Elise answered, "just know that it will sustain her and will not harm her. There is more in the sack."

"But what is it?"

"What she needs to survive. I will not tell you where this came from, ever, so do not ask again. It will keep from starving and that should be good enough for you."

This response did nothing to alleviate Karthus's distrust. In response, all he did was grunt a quick, "I understand, thank you."

"There, now was that so difficult?" Elise asked as a smug smile perched on her lips.

And there it stayed until Achlys was satisfied with her meal and stretched out her little arms and yawned. Elise handed her back to Karthus.

"Remember to burp her after she eats. Pat her gently until she does," Elise instructed.

Kathus looked into the now sleepy eyes of Achlys. He held her close with her head leaning over his shoulder and began to pat and massage her back as Elise had told him. He felt her tiny body hiccup against him.

"Is that all," he asked.

"Not quite," Elise answered, "she isn't finished yet."

No sooner than she said these words than Achlys burped and, with a squelching noise, spat up on Karthus's back. Elise laughed.

"You knew this would happen," Karthus accused.

"Of course I did," Elise said through her chuckling, "she is living, and the living are oozing creatures, babies especially so."

"Elise, you help me clean this up."

"Oh no, Karthus, I only promised to gather what she would need to live. All the other parts are you responsibility."

The shadows on Kathus's face grew darker as irritation sculpted his features.

The pouch she brought fell from her form as she changed, and Karthus only saw the form of the spider for moment before she rappelled into the rafters and disappeared.


	3. Chapter 3

Karthus held Achlys away from himself & found that the look of contentment on her face annoyed him almost as much as Elise had. But, Achlys was a baby and therefore didn't know to care about the rudeness of spewing all over a person, so she continued to smile and goo happily as the spew slid down her chin and Karthus's robe.

Karthus carries her down to the ocean at once, not even bothering to take the time to command a host of spirits to follow him. He set her down in the grey sand and began to remove the vestments he had kept immaculately for years before. He decided to clean her first though, and removed her swaddling with care. As he did, he found himself grateful for his inability to smell.

"Don't squirm now, little one," he said, picking her up, "and we will have you clean again."

Karthus hovered low to the ground & Achlys was lowered into the water. As soon as her tiny toes touched the water her eyes went wide with shock. She kicked at the waves & whined at Karthus in protest.

"It must be cold for a living thing like you, Achlys," Karthus explained, "everything on the Isles is cold. There is not much I can do about it. You must grow accustomed to this."

Having said his part, Karthus finished plunking her into the surf & began to bathe her with the clean edge of his soiled vestments.

She continued to fidget in the water.

"They are only waves," Karthus said in a reassuring tone, "and I will not let them harm you."

Though still unsure, Achlys settled down. Another minute and she was enjoying herself. She made a pleased hissing noise as she splashed her arms about, soaking the lich further. Karthus put down his cloth & splashed her back. Instantly, Achlys stopped. She looked at him with the intensity as though he had broken a sacred vow.

"Do not look at me that way," he said with a smirk, "you should not splash unless you accept the fact that you may be splashed back."

The shifting sound of sand under hooves heralded troubles far graver than damp sleeves. "You have decided to drown it," the phantom's voice rumbled, "good, but I will do it for you. Let me cleave it in two so that we will be rid of its presence."

"You know I will not do that, Hecarim," Karthus replied as he pulled Achlys close, "unless your memory has failed you within a day."

"I have not failed within a day, Karthus, you have!"

Hecarim's booming voice left Achlys whimpering.

"You've lost your pride," the centaur continued, "you kneel in the sand, soil your robes, and let that thing cover you in vomit."

"And I am willing to pay this price for my charge," Karthus replied calmly as he rose to meet the Shadow of War.

"You surrender your dignity," Hecarim said, unintimidated by Karthus in the least, "but do not shame the Isles by harboring the living."

"You long for bloodshed, my friend," Karthus's hollow eyes starred unflinchingly into Hecarim's as he spoke, "to bring the sweet moment of death to others. I understand. The Harrowing is still moons away and you grow restless. So," his calm voice gained a sharp edge, "why don't you go skewer some fish?"

"Don't speak to me as if I was a whining child," Hecarim roared, "I will have my bloodshed now!"

Before Karthus had a moment to react, Hecarim had reared up and kicked him in the chest. The force of the kick left the lich's bones clattering as he was tossed backwards like a ragdoll into the surf. Hecarim tore the crying child from Karthus's arm and held her aloft.

Before Karthus had even righted himself, he was on the counterattack. His knobby fingers were outstretched, directing the magic that flowed through the wastes of the Isles and commanding it to explode at Hecarim's hooves. The great specter reeled as he struggled to maintain his balance. Again, Karthus struck. The magic burst with a shrieking boom and knocked the glaive from Hecarim's grasp. A third burst had bought Karthus enough time to rise back up.

Hecarim was furious. He stamped his hooves. Sparks flew from where they struck against stone and the bale-fire that enshrouded him blazed like wildfire. From his clenched fist a spell was cast, sending a wave of dreadful energy over the shore. The seaweed was set ablaze in a cold blue fire despite its dampness. Achlys's cries of terror became a shriek of pain.

A rage filled Karthus in that moment the likes of which the lich had never experienced before. Had any gods been looking upon that forsaken beach, they would have seen Karthus's fury to be ten times that of his opponent. Karthus summoned a wall of chilling magic that could slow the movements of even undead creatures, and wrapped it about Hecarim. The brute could feel the dark magic seeping into his being and he saw that Karthus was preparing another salvo of attacks. He knew he wouldn't be able to cleave the child in two, but his mind was set on his goal of destruction.

In one motion, he focused his willpower to overcome Karthus's magic and throw Achlys to the ground. Karthus cursed like a demon as desperation caused him to lunge at the child and Hecarim's raised iron hooves. But he was not fast enough, and he watched in slow motion as his ambitions tumbled towards the black, hard, uncaring rocks of that blighted beach.

Suddenly, it ended. The Mist swirled in from every direction. It rushed past the lich and through the centaur's legs. It poured downwards from the sky and emerged from the waves like black tentacles. And it all converged at the infant and she was saved. The eerily glowing tendrils of vapor cradled her delicately, suspending her inches from the ground. There it cradled her until she was again in Kathus's hands. It washed over her face a final time, soothing her wailing to a whimper, and before dissipating as quickly as it had come.

All Hecarim could do now was trembled at the will of the force that animated him. He was speechless.

"You understand now," Karthus said, "that she is not to be harmed. It is the will of the Isles that she is to be its daughter."

Hecarim lowered his head in humility.

"I acknowledge," he said.

"Then proclaim it," Karthus demanded, "run and let every wraith, phantom, and spirit know that she is to be accepted as one of us. Go."

Hecarim was off like a bolt and left Karthus with Achlys and peace again. Alone, Karthus hugged the infant close to him until her whimpering had stopped and the waves upon the shore were the only sound. Then, Karthus looked down at Achlys and smiled. She smiled back.


	4. Chapter 4

No spirit questioned the legitimacy of Achlys's place on the Shadow Isles, and that was enough for Karthus. Elise provided the sustenance for her to live, and Karthus himself saw to her care and keeping. He believed that it would be enough for the child but, as he quickly learned, Achlys did not believe that this was the case. What she truly desired was attention.

Achlys would coo softly when he held her or stroked the soft wisps of pale hair that were starting to grow but, if left alone for too long, she would begin to fuss and cry. And then she would cry when she was hungry, and when she needed cleaning, and when she was gassy, and when she was scared, and sometimes, for no reason at all. Her wailing at times was like a banshee's. This was a statement which Karthus insisted was no exaggeration since, on one occasion, her cries had attracted an actual banshee to his cathedral. No spirit could hear his sermon that day. It was after that that Karthus finally decided that something needed to be done.

While Achlys slept, Karthus sat alone and thought. As his gaze followed the tiny movements of the rise and fall of her chest, he scoured his memories, searching desperately for some inspiration. It finally came when Achlys giggled in her sleep. The sound awoke some deep memory of a similar sound. Karthus fixated on it and an image began to form in his mind.

He was sitting on the floor of a dank building. The wood was rotting and there was an oppressive dimness to the room that seemed determined to suck the vibrancy from everything within it. Despite this, he was surrounded by three younger, smiling girls. Karthus looked down at his hands and in them was a tiny toy soldier carved from wood, freshly painted in the colors of the Noxian military, and a paintbrush. He handed the toy to the youngest of the three sisters and she giggled. She said his name, and the sound rang hollowly through his mind before the memory once again faded.

A mimic of a sigh came from Karthus as he his mind returned to the present.

"Toys," he said, "she needs toys."

He leaned over Achlys and rested a boney finger in her tiny palm. Her fingers wrapped around it as she slowly stirred awake.

"I will have Elise search for some for you."

She tugged his finger closer to her.

"Though, I will see what I can do for you now."

Karthus pulled his finger back from her reluctant hand. He looked around the room for anything that would make for a stand-in toy. Nothing stood out. Karthus had no need for possessions, and as such, he owned very little. Most of what he owned was used in his ceremonies or were one of the many books he had salvaged from the Library Keep. None of these items were anything he wanted to give to an infant. He would need to make something.

"Come, child," he said, scooping her up, "what appeals to you?"

He walked with her through the entirety of the cathedral and introduced her to the many items within it in hopes that something would catch her interest.

Old tomes beyond repair?

Boring.

A headless figurine of some long forgotten man?

Couldn't keep her eyes open.

Stubs of old beeswax candles?

Uninterested.

The only new item that caught Achlys's interest was a shard of stained glass which Karthus had immediately deemed unsuitable for a plaything. Outside of this, her intersts were focused on two things; Karthus's vestments, which she kept an unwavering grip on, and the wraiths that floated around them. Her gaze had followed their glowing trails and her eyes had widened with excitement every time their forms shifted and briefly reflected the man or beast they were in life. A realization came to Karthus.

"Of course, little one," he said with pride, "that is what you want. I should have expected such from one destined to dwell among wraiths. You wish for a toy of one."

The lich set about his task at once. He found some grey fabric that was dusty but free of stains, a black string, and the ink he used in his tome recovery. With one of his ceremonial daggers, he cut the cloth into an even square before gathering up the scraps to be used as stuffing. He made a bundle of the cloth and tied the stuffing in with the string while still leaving enough to hang below like tendrils of Mist.

Karthus examined his handiwork. It was primitive, but serviceable. All it needed was a face. He dipped the tip of his finger into the ink and dotted two eyes onto the plush wraith. He went to finish with the mouth but paused.

 _What expression do I bestow it? A smile would be the obvious choice for a child's toy, but it would seem foolish to give it an expression that she will rarely see on the spirits here. It is a shame that their expressions are frozen in the fear they felt before release. But still, it seems equally foolish to dye a frown or scowl on something intended to comfort her. She always grows discomforted around the spirits of those who died in battle. Perhaps a neutral expression would be best._

With that, Karthus took his ink stained finger and drew a straight, expressionless mouth. He handed Achlys the toy, finally satisfied with its appearance.

"Here you are, Achlys, a wraith of your own, straight mouth and everything."

Achlys took it immediately and gave her guardian and big, toothless smile. She shook it up and down, as one of the cathedral's wraiths bobbed up and down in the air beside her. Karthus paid little mind to the odd behavior of the wraith, for he, much like the lesser spirit, was too wrapped up in how happy the child looked.

And it was much like this that their first month passed in peace, until Achlys insisted on learning how to crawl.


	5. Chapter 5

She was on a mission. The tasure, a glinting piece of stained glass, lay only a few feet before her. Achlys put her new abilities to the test and began to crawl at top speed. She moved out until she was only inches away from her prize, and then she was scooped up.

"No, no, little bug," Elise said as she picked up Achlys, "that is not a toy for you."

"Beh," Achyls grunted, her legs still kicking.

"Karthus," Elise chided, "this place is far too filthy to let a baby crawl around. What have you been doing all this time while I was away?"

Elise waved a free hand towards the glass. A spider emerged from the shadows and began to carry away the offending object.

"I have been raising her," Karthus answered her, "an activity that has consumed me entirely. I have made our chambers clean but there are still much of my cathedral I have not been able to tend to yet."

"And so she risks getting her tiny hands lacerated."

"If you are so concerned, will you be cleaning?"

Elise let out a small chuckle.

"Of course not," she said, "such a task is not worth dirtying myself for."

"You complain of the dirt here before you go digging through a ruin."

"Because I gain nothing from cleaning your mess. From what I've heard, Hecarim is now sworn to protect her. Command him to assist you."

"We both know that that would be a foolish endeavor. He would crush that glass shard beneath his hooves and call the pulverized pieces clean. I am attempting to involve him as little as possible."

They both looked at the child still fidgeting in Elise's grasp. Achlys insisted on being returned to the floor and, after a quick survey of the ground by her guardians, they consented. A smile crossed Elise's lips.

"Before you know it, she will be taking her first steps, saying her first words, manipulating her first victim."

"I refuse," Karthus cut her off, "I deal in the truth, Elise. I will not teach her to be a deceiver."

"She will need to learn to deceive so that she may also recognize when she is being deceived," Elise explained, "you may insist that way you say is the truth, but what about the others out there."

"Do you believe that Thresh will try and deceive her? No, he prefers the uncaring truth to comforting lies."

"It is not him that I worry about, but others. You have heard whispers in the Mist about Hecarim. We know he was a traitor in life, and even beyond him, there are others here who would lie to her. Hungry predators."

Karthus's face contorted to a scowl. His tone was tinged with annoyance.

"I assume you would now go on to tell me that the mainland will be even more treacherous, that all the living would wish to pollute her."

"Not all the living," Elise corrected, "only most of them. If you care for her safety, this is something she will need to learn."

As her guardians discussed to prospects of teaching her guile, Achlys set off to explore. She soon found Elise's spider crouching in the shadows & wrapping the glass with its silk. Achlys approached it. Irritated with the baby encroaching upon it, the spider raised its front legs & barred its fangs as a threat. One of Karthus's wraiths was at Achlys's side in an instant. It screeched at the spider, causing the hairy creature to bolt away.

The noise also attracted Karthus's attention. The lich looked over to Achlys and saw that she was leaning upwards and now grasping at the undead before her. Her fingers passed through the wraith's misty form, though occasionally they caught onto it as though it was her plush toy.

"Mmmm, mmmmm," she mumbled.

"She wants her Grimm," Karthus explained.

From the folds of his robe, Karthus produced the plush wraith and gave it to Achlys. She cooed happily with her toy now in hand. At once she busied herself by rolling to her back and attempting to pass Grimm from one hand to the other.

"You went and made her a toy before I could return to get her a proper one," Elise commented, "I would feel insulted if the expression on that thing didn't amuse me so much. Art is not one of your gifts, stay with your orations."

"She enjoys my orations and Grimm's face the way they are. I am not raising her to be shallow."

"Of course you aren't," Elise said with a breath of sarcasm.

The woman rose to her feet and her spider scuttled back over to her.

"My ship departs soon," she said, "even with her Grimm, did you still want for her to have another?"

"She would appreciate it," Karthus answered.

Elise smiled, knowing how he was trying to betray his gratitude. She went over and picked Achlys up so she could give the baby a parting hug.

"Say goodbye to 'Auntie Elise' because when she returns, she will have gifts for you," Elise cooed in Achlys's face.

"Auntie Elise," Karthus scoffed.

"Well, I'm not her mother."

"You aren't her aunt either."

"Then I suppose you aren't taking the role of her father? Poor little Achlys, left adrift without a family."

Karthus paused for a moment. He hadn't considered this. Did this child need a parent? A father?

" _Father,"_ the lich thought.

What meaning did that word have to him? He knew the basic definition of the word and he had heard the living call it to one another, but did the concept apply to him and Achlys.

" _The last time I used that word, I remember,"_

 _It was the same ramshackle building. Two men with robes and staves stood on either side of him, and before him another man was hunched over a table. He had a bottle in his hand and more were scattered around the room._

" _They're all dead," said the voice of a young man, "and I am not staying here. I have a gift to share. Good-bye, Father."_

Karthus took Achlys into his arms as that memory faded.

"I never said that I would not be her father," Karthus answered.

" _and I will be better than that man," he continued in his thoughts._

"I am her primary guardian. I will be raising her. I should be her father."

"Then raise her well until her Auntie returns to spoil her," Elise said with a smile, "good evening, Karthus."

She departed, but Karthus did not even give her the attention to return her parting words. His attentions were squarely on his daughter.

"Father," he said aloud, "I will be your father, Achlys."

"Fffff," Achlys hissed.

Thank you to all my readers who are being patient with me and my slower upload schedule. August has been an incredibly busy month. I hope things will slow down in September so I can return to a more regular upload schedule. Thank you for your understanding.

-Gwoo


	6. Chapter 6

Today they were going on a trip to the coast. Karthus wrapped up Achlys in a sling and had her safely tucked over his shoulder, just as Elise had instructed him to do. He had selected two of his wraiths to accompany them that day, and after little delay, the party of four was off.

The bleak landscape of the Isles passed peacefully before them. Grey rocks, grey withered trees, and grey blasted ruins dotted the horizon, but there was color here too. The eerie blues and greens of balefire shocked the view with their cold vibrancy. In the faults left by the Ruination's earthquakes, it rose from the ground like smoke from a fire. It shrouded the wild, lesser spirits as they went wailing by. And in some places, it was a shimmering memory of what was there before. Achlys had been mesmerized by a dogwood tree that had perished while it was in full bloom. Bright, ghostly blossoms swayed in a wind that was not there and gave off a blue glow that was almost reminiscent of a spring sky.

As they neared their destination, new noises began to fill the air. Seabirds, ever the intrepid explorers, were one of the few living creatures that had made a home on the Isles. Over their cries came the sound of waves. This stretch of coast was not as calm as the beach Achlys had washed up on, and the waves dashed constantly against the sheer rocky cliffs and ruins of a lost city.

"Here we are, Achlys," Karthus said as they came to the crest of a hill, "the largest of the sunken cities, and the heart of the Shadow Isles."

Achlys began to babble excitedly as they looked out over the ruins. Karthus watched as her bright eyes darted from the toppled great towers, to the Vaults of Arcana, now partially sunken into the sundered ground, and to the docks, where the skeletons of ships lay broken upon the shore. Most notable of all though, was how the Black Mist writhed around the city's center like a living creature.

"Wa-wa-wa," she insisted as she waved her hands at the ocean.

"Not today," Karthus said, "we are not going down to the water. We have a library to explore."

He angled her so that she could look inland and pointed to circular structure that was still mostly intact thanks to its heavy stone walls.

"The grand library," Karthus said, "if we are to find a book for you, it would be there. If not, we will find the materials for me to craft one."

"Buh?" Achlys asked.

"Yes, book."

He pulled his own black tome from its place at his hip and showed it to her.

"Book," he repeated.

His finger pointed towards their destination and then back to the tome.

"Library, book. The library has books."

"Buh-buh!" Achlys repeated happily.

Her arms waved at the book and, in her excitement, she knocked Karthus's mitre off his head.

"Hat," Karthus instructed as he picked up his headdress and returned it to his head, "hat goes on head."

"Ha," Achlys stated.

"Very good. Hat."

"Ha!"

And with a giggle, she pushed the mitre down again.

"Ha-ha."

Karthus carried his hat as they glided through the streets after he had grown tired of Achlys knocking it off his head. And so "ha-ha-hat" became "ha-ha-hair," as she was now gumming on strands of his pale hair. Karthus ignored this the best he could, but he was surprised to learn that he could still feel her pluck strands. He could not let himself be distracted by such things as they traveled the ancient walkways.

His wraith guards scarred off the myriad of lesser spirits cursed to haunt the city, but he knew stronger ones dwelled here as well. For these, force may be needed. On this day though, there were none to be found. The streets had been emptied of everything but the crabs and gulls.

The blackened doors of the library stood before them. With a wave of the lich's hand, they pulled open slowly. Achlys's nose scrunched up in displeasure as the stench of the place assailed her; musty paper, rotten wood, and ancient decay mingled with distant ocean air. Karthus paid no mind to this, having long ago lost his sense of smell. His attention was instead turned on a destroyed artifact in the center of the library. Before the Ruination, this device stored the location of all the books and scrolls within, but now it only gave off an intense blue light. Weak trails of arcane magic spun from the core of the artifact to connect with its shattered remains scattered throughout the building.

Karthus's eyes followed these trails. He had followed a different path on each of his previous visits and had never found any children's books, so now it was time to pick and follow a new strand.

"Which one shall we follow, Achlys," he asked.

"Ooh-ah!" she responded with a flail of her hands.

She was pointing towards the second floor of the building. Toward the west wing, an Eternal Scrivener was writing about in a mess of scrolls. The being had died at its lectern, and now the confused spirit could do little but record the terrors it witnessed all over its body.

"Poor soul," Karthus said when he saw that Achlys was staring at it, "I have not been able to calm their minds, but I will be able to reach them some day."

"Sa," Achlys sighed.

"Yes, it is sad. It should be at peace, recording the wonders of our Isles for this library. But pay it no heed for now. We will still go to the second floor, but we will explore the east wing. Now watch this spell, I will teach it to you some day."

Karthus swept his arms before him and summoned the Mist. It swirled around his legs, raising him higher into the air and up towards the second floor. It dispersed back into the gloom after both the living and the undead had been safely deposited. Achlys's eyes were wide with surprise.

"We still have a long way to go before you will be doing that yourself. You still haven't learned to walk yet."

He reached back and gave her a soothing pat on the head.

"We have books to find now."

The pathways were illuminated by arcane light, allowing for Achlys to wonder at everything she saw. The seemingly endless piles of books and scrolls provided endless entertainment with their glowing titles or how the pages of some would turn by themselves. They came across one book that was forever repeating the final page aloud. When the voice was just about to finish the story, it would be cut off suddenly, only to begin the final page again a minute later.

Karthus had collected a few books for him to restore and was about to continue to a new section when a noise caught his attention. His wraiths caught it too, and they rushed to his side. They hissed silently as the whole library seemed to grow silent. Only the books without consciousness and the Scriveners, lost in their madness, still made noise. And from the growing quiet, the clanking of chains echoed through the library.


	7. Chapter 7

-Achlys could feel the uneasiness of the wraiths around her and began to whimper.

"Be still, Achlys," Karthus soothed, "I will not allow him to harm you. You know I fought Hecarim for you, and he is stronger than Thresh."

"Mmm," she groaned.

"Be still."

It was true what he had said, Hecarim was one of the strongest spirits on the Shadow Isles. Very few could match the Shadow of War in terms of pure physical strength, but Thresh possessed something that Hecarim lacked. Cunning. And it was that cunning that made Karthus curse that he didn't command more wraiths to accompany them.

Karthus straightened up and gripped his staff more tightly. He would not allow himself to be intimidated by a mere sound. The wraiths, sensing their master's resolve, grew calmer. They began to hover protectively around Achlys and soon, she too had calmed, though each clanking echo of the chains had her flinching.

The baleful light of the dark lantern flickered at the end of the hallway. It tinted the walls with its cold, green light. The air began to grow colder, though the shadows on the bookshelves danced as if a fire blazed. A clawed glove grabbed the top of the lantern and Thresh came into view. He held his tool aloft, completely dousing the dark passage in light. The balefire that wreathed his head flared with excitement at the sight of Karthus.

"Ah, Karthus," his voice echoed, "what a delight it is to see you here, and I see that you brought the baby with you."

"Thresh," Karthus replied with as much courtesy that he could muster, "I am surprised to see you here. I never took you to be a reader."

"Truly? I consider myself to be quite the scholar."

Thresh let go of his lantern and let it float alongside him as he walked down the hall, looking over the books with feigned interest. Karthus watched this charade with a wary eye. He wanted no part in Thresh's game, so he tried to continue on as though the other specter wasn't there. He resumed scanning the bookshelves for tomes of interest, but he kept Thresh in peripheral gaze. Achlys however, couldn't ignore him at all, and so she starred on with wide, frightened eyes.

Even with his split attention, a book did catch Karthus's eyes. Its binding was damaged, but the pages appeared to be mostly intact. Repairing it would be a simple matter. He went to reach for the book but suddenly, Thresh's hand was there first. The specter ripped the book from the shelf, pulling it out of Karthus's reach.

"Here it is," Thresh said as calmly as though he had only gently picked the text from the shelf, "I think this was what I was looking for."

He began to pace, muttering to himself as he did, and flip through the book.

"No, no. Not here. Wrong," he muttered aloud, ripping a page from the book with each word.

"This isn't the book I was looking for," he said with a shrug before tossing the tattered tome over his shoulder.

It landed inches from the lich and Karthus bent down to scoop up its sad remains. Karthus scowled.

"Why are you here, Thresh," he demanded.

"I dwell here, Karthus," the specter responded matter-of-factly, "the Isles are my home as well."

"You know what I meant. What are you doing at the library? And do not say it is because you are looking for a book."

Thresh abandoned his fake search of the bookshelf and turned his attention to Karthus and Achlys.

"Do I need a reason to want to see our own chosen of the Isles," he asked as he approached.

His face contorted into a smile and he reached out a hand to touch the child. Karthus gently pushed his arm aside with his staff.

"You do not need a reason, no, but I find it difficult that you have nothing better to do," Karthus said with an even tone.

Thresh retracted his hand.

"I am between marks currently," he said, "but I suppose I could always find a new one."

He yanked his lantern upwards and opened it a crack. A cacophony of confused noises came spilling out. The balefire around Thresh flared briefly at the noise as he reached a claw inside and withdrew a glowing soul. The dull glow of the wretched thing grew brighter and more frenzied as Thresh pulled it away from the lantern and into his palm. It tried to flee, but every time it passed Thresh's curled fingers, wisps of blue light would lash out from them and pull it back, leaving it to struggle like a fly on the end of a string.

"I believe this one still has family somewhere," Thresh continued, "a daughter."

An unpleasant feeling roiled within Karthus. He had always held deep contempt for how the Warden treated the souls of the dead, but today the feeling was different. It was not revulsion, nor was it hatred. It was something worse, something in the way Thresh was looking past the soul and directly at Karthus. It was something in the way he had said "daughter." It was fear, budding in Karthus's chest for the first time since his transformation.

How long Thresh held Karthus pinned under his gaze, neither could say, but it ended as suddenly as it had begun. Thresh snapped his hand shut, crushing the soul and sending it back to the lantern.

"But I can deal with her another day," the specter continued as though nothing had happened, "today I only care about seeing one girl."

Karthus raised his staff again, but this time Thresh only laughed at it.

"Do you still believe I want to hurt her, Karthus? I could do it if I wanted to. I could do it with ease."

Before Karthus could object, Thresh had his blade in hand. A quick swing and it sailed towards the balcony of the next floor. There was the sound of tearing paper and shrill screech as the chain went taut. Thresh grabbed his chain and reeled it towards him. A scrivener was hooked on the end. The spirit crashed onto the ground, scattering papers everywhere. Thresh stamped his boot down on its back.

"If I had wanted to tear that child from your back Karthus I would have done it by now," he said, "I told you earlier, I find infants boring. I'm on your side, Karthus. I want to see her grow up to be strong and beautiful. I want to see her spread the Mist. But for today, I just want to see her, and I will."

Karthus considered his options. On the one hand, he did not want the Isles' most infamously sadistic monster anywhere near Achlys, but on the other hand, this monster could also be a valuable ally in protecting her. What Elise had said about Thresh was true, he was not deceitful, but that did little to ease Karthus's mind.

" _Why is he so interested in her,_ "Karthus thought, " _does he believe what I told him in the cathedral? Or is there some other reason he wants to see her grown? Is he waiting for when she will be less 'boring' to him?"_

The thought was revolting. Questions continued to drive through his mind, but Thresh was growing impatient and had begun to move towards Achlys. Karthus pushed his staff against the other undead's chest. The wraiths hissed as tensions came to a point.

" _Time's up, Karthus_ ," he thought to himself, " _you either address this problem now or later_."

A final look at the scrivener tearing itself to shreds against the chains was enough to solidify Karthus's decision. This would be an easier battle if Achlys is old enough to defend herself.

"You may see her, Thresh," Karthus said with reluctance, though his tone grew more threatening as he continued, "but if you so much as make her bleed a single drop, I will do to you things that you can't even conceive."

This threat only produced a laugh from Thresh. He ripped his hook from the scrivener before kicking the spirit away and coming to loom over Achlys.

"Hello, Achlys," he said.

Karthus couldn't tell if Thresh was being more intentionally intimidating or not, because Achlys was frantically kicking his back in a panic.

"Neh! Beh! Beh! Mmmm," she grunted.

"My, my," Thresh mused, "you are so pale looking, like a porcelain doll."

He twirled a strand of her platinum hair around his fingers. The light glowing on their tips reflected in her green eyes and shone on her skin, making her as blue as the wraith beside her.

"Ehenn," was her response.

"She babbles quite a bit. What was her first word, Karthus?"

"She hasn't said it yet," Karthus answered.

Thresh suddenly clapped down on his shoulder.

"She hasn't said her first word yet," he exclaimed, "such a critical moment of her life. Some people say that a first word can influence the course of the child's life."

"What," Karthus balked, "that's not true. Who says that?"

"Some people."

"You are speaking nonsense."

"Is that a risk you are willing to take, though? Can you say 'flay,' Achlys? Maybe you can follow my footsteps instead, hmm? Hook, Achlys. Can you repeat that? Or cage or lock?"

Thresh dangled the lantern before her as he spoke the last words, allowing her to see the multitude of souls trapped within.

"Enough of you," Karthus snapped, "she does not need to put up with this aggravation."

Karthus backed away, letting his wraiths fill the space between them.

"We are leaving, Achlys," he continued, "and hopefully you will sparred his presence for many nights to come."

"Good bye, Achlys," Thresh smirked with a wave, "we will see each other again."

Once outside the library, Karthus muttered a long stream of curses.

"By the Hunters, Achlys, do not let any of those be your first word either."

"Meh," she replied.

She had calmed down now that she was breathing the fresh, salty air. The rest of the sunken city had also reemerged now that Thresh had departed, and the streets were soon illuminated by wandering spirits again. The lesser spirits parted as Karthus floated by, though many a curious and hungry eye followed him.

"We may not have a book for you, but I can still teach you words. I will not allow your first word to be something horrid, if for no other reason than to spite Thresh."

"Eh?"

"Try 'book' again, Achlys. You almost said it earlier," he held up a tome again, "book."

"Boh,"

"Good, book."

"Boh."

"Do you want to attempt 'hat' again? Hat."

"Hah."

"Keep practicing."

Karthus spent the rest of the day bringing her through the city, pointing to all manner of objects in an attempt to get her to speak a full word, but without much success. 'Crab' was 'bab,' 'wisp' became 'ssss,' and 'spider' was simply 'der.' He named all the parts of a house and identified the hardy few species of plants that grew among the ruins. Still, she only babbled. Achyls was enjoying herself, but steadily she grew tired. In one final attempt, Karthus brought her down to the docks.

"Look, Achlys, you can see the ocean. It is water. Please, make one more attempt. Water."

"Wah," she said with a yawn.

That was it. Achlys had reached her limits and would be asleep in minutes. Karthus resigned himself that they would need to wait until tomorrow to continue. Out of irritation, he knocked a passing crab into the water with his staff. He watched as the ripples spread across the calmer waters of this protected cove and then watched as they returned, larger and more erratic. A bright light pulsated from the depth. A moment later, the spirit of a serpentine sea monster burst forth. It let out a whistling screech, exposing its mouth full of needle-like teeth. Patterns along its side flashed wildly for a moment before it dove again and sped out to sea.

Karthus turned to check on Achlys. She was fully alert again, with her eyes wide and mouth agape. But she was smiling. She breathed out a word.

"Wow."


	8. Chapter 8

Karthus placed Achlys down in her lifeboat crib. She stretched with a yawn as Karthus changed her into fresh clothing for the night.

"We've had quite the eventful day, Achlys," he said softly.

She didn't answer, but only looked at him with a sleepy expression and bright eyes. Karthus's ancient face wrinkled into a smile. He then began to sing a lullaby:

" _The moon shines down on the Isles' shore, illuminating sand with a glistening hoar._

 _And balefire blue gives its cold light, so that your home glows throughout the night._

 _Gulls come to roost in their trees, lulled to sleep by the evening's ease._

 _But specters do not need repose, in this land of light and shadows._

 _The wraiths will watch you as you sleep, to make sure nothing makes you weep._

 _Phantoms' forms will flit and gleam, all around you as you dream._

 _And skeletons will dance with their eternal grin, knowing you will champion their kin._

 _For you are the one I insist, that will one day be our herald of the Mist."_

Karthus's voice echoed through the cathedral and wove itself into the wind. The spirits who heard him became calm. The restless patrols gave way to silent vigils and their wails conceded to the Deathsinger's lullaby.

"Fa," Achlys sighed as her eyes shut with a smile.

Karthus remained standing over her for several minutes to be sure that her breathing was easy and steady. No nightmares of the Chain Warden would haunt her tonight. Instead, she dreamt of the spectral seas serpent and the phantasmagorical patterns of light that flashed along its body. Satisfied, Karthus left her to sleep, but not before pausing at the door one more time.

"Sleep well, my daughter."


	9. Chapter 9

"Ah-ah, Eh-eh!" Achlys exclaimed as the spider woman entered the cathedral.

"Hello to you as well, little bug," Elise said with a smile before adopting a more bitter tone for Karthus, "I am due to depart for Noxus tonight. I hope what you have summoned me for is important."

"It is," Karthus answered, "it concerns Achlys. Yesterday the wraiths that guard her while she sleeps came screeching to me. I rushed to her, but instead of finding her in danger, there she was, standing in her boat."

Karthus crouched down and picked up Achlys from where she was playing on the floor.

"Are you ready to show Elise what you can do?"

"Yea," Achlys responded with a drooling smile.

Karthus held her upright as she steadied her legs and stretched her arms out towards a nearby pew. He let go and, though wobbly, Achlys stood. She giggled with a gummy smile.

"That's wonderful, little bug," Elise said as she crouched down to the child's level, "you'll be walking before you know it. If I could take you with me, I would make you the terror of the Noxian courts. We would start with the well-guarded secret of how to run in heels."

"Ah," Karthus said with an approving tone, "you realize why I called you here."

"What? Teaching her to run in heels? That was a joke, Karthus. Noxian girls don't learn that secret until they are ten years of age."

Karthus gave her a stern look.

"How to walk, Elise," he said, "help me teach her how to walk."

"Walking should come naturally."

"I imagine that it does, but I cannot even demonstrate how to walk."

Elise cocked an eyebrow.

"Elaborate," she demanded, "or I will be forced to believe that you are the Isle's laziest being."

"Elise, I cannot remember the last time that I have walked. Look, because of it, my legs have shriveled."

The lich pulled back his robe and, with a wave of his hand, removed his shoe, revealing what had once been a foot. The desiccated skin was the same pale grey as the rest of him, but somehow appeared even more aged. The toes, skeletal thin, curled in on themselves so that they resembled more a single claw than a foot.

"Karthus," Elise cut in without any attempt to hide the disgust in her voice, "if you never show me that again, or anything else under your robes, I will agree to teach her to walk."

"I am glad you agree," Karthus said, "did you hear that Achlys? Elise is going to teach you how to walk."

"Ah-ah Eh-eh?" Achlys babbled as she looked between her two guardians.

"Yes, little bug," Elise cooed as she scooped up the baby, "Auntie Elise will teach you."

"You still insist on having her call you that?"

"You lost your privilege to chastise me on such things. The rumor going around is that you have been trying to teach her to call you 'Father'."

"Fa!" Achlys exclaimed as if to confirm the rumors.

"I rest my case," Elise said with a smile and turned her attention back to Achlys.

She cradled her against her body and, with her back spindles, began to stroke Achly's tiny feet.

"These are your feet," she said, "you use them for walking."

"Eet?"

"Feet. Say 'fa' first."

"Fa-eet."

"That's better. And these are your toes," she bounced the tip of her spindle over each digit as she talked, "Karthus doesn't have any left, but you still have all ten of your toes."

"Eet."

"Toes," Elise gave a small sigh, "Noxus wasn't built in a day. We will practice your words later but right now, I need you to stand like you were earlier. Stand on your feet."

"Yea."

Elise lowered Achlys towards the ground and, as before, waited until the baby had her legs below her. She kept holding Achly's hands so that she could maintain her balance and wrapped two of her spindles before her for additional stability. Then Elise lowered herself onto her heels.

"Oh," she sighed, "I haven't had to walk like this in quite some time. Ah, there's an unfamiliar stretch."

With the long red tips of her feet laying against the ground, Elise looked as though she had broken her ankles. If she felt any discomfort though, she did not show it. Instead, she guided Achlys to stand on top of her feet. She then began to take slow, small steps.

"There, now you're walking," she encouraged, "One step at a time. Stay on my feet."

"Eet! Eet! Eet! Fa-eet!" Achlys chanted as they moved.

Elise continued this for a minute, walking in small circle, until she helped Achlys to sit before Kathus.

"She won't learn to walk in a day," Elise said, "you will need to practice with her like that every day. I know your feet are repulsive, but you can still levitate behind her and hold her hands for balance. You can have her practice walking along with the pews. Even crawling will be good for her, and if you ever need more help, you can always ask Hecarim. I have the tide to catch."

"But Hecarim has four feet. I-"

"And I have eight," Elise cut in before he could continue. She flexed her spindles outwards and pulled herself back up to the tips of her toes. "She will learn, Karthus. Give her encouragement."

"I already was."

"Then I shouldn't have to tell you anything else," she waved to the baby, "good bye, little bug. I will see you next month."

"Buh," Achlys said while mimicking the waving motion.

When Elise had left, Karthus scooped up the child.

"We have much practicing to do. When she returns, you will exceed all her expectations. You are my daughter, and I know you will accomplish great things."

"Yea fa!"


	10. Chapter 10

It was the perfect beach day. The sun was obscured by a veil of Mist but still shone brightly enough to keep the lesser spirits in their lairs. The wind was gentle, the waves steady, and Achlys was full of energy. So without hesitation, Karthus packed a bag, scooped up his daughter, and was off before midday.

On one of their many tours of the Isles he brought Achlys on, he had discovered a secluded cove where the shore was sandier and the water shallow. After just one visit, it had become their favorite spot outside the cathedral.

Karthus set Achlys down in the sand. Immediately, she set herself to work on the important task of pushing around the damp turf.

"Sand," Karthus told her.

"Nnnnd," she repeated.

She continued to hum this noise as she created a mound of sand, stopping only to protest "no" at the waves that washed too close.

"The ocean will not obey you, little one," Karthus said, "but that doesn't mean you cannot do anything about it. Watch."

He crouched down beside her and stuck his hand into the sand. He scooped it back, digging out a trench for the waves to spill into. Achlys watched intently.

"Now the waves will have to go through my moat before they reach your castle," he said as he finished forming his barrier before them, "what will you do now with this knowledge?"

"And," Achlys answered as she took another handful of sand and threw it at her pile.

Karthus smiled. He wasn't sure what he was expecting for an answer, but he was pleased by what he received. Sand clung the edges of his damp robes, but he ignored it and began to assist in the construction of her grand fortress. When was the last time he had done something like this? There was a memory, foggy and incomplete, but there.

 _He was soaking wet, having just waded ashore with a burlap sack gripped tightly in one hand._

 _Why had he been diving? The harbor and river were filled with flotsam, but was the wreck from a storm or battle? Those details were lost, but what did remain was the young girl waving him over. He remembered her this time, his youngest sister._

" _Karthus," she called, "come look."_

 _He went to her and could feel the salt beginning to dry to his skin._

" _Look," she said excitedly, "it's the Immortal Bastion."_

 _She pointed proudly to the sand castle she had constructed. Even through memory's haze, Karthus knew that this sculpture only looked like Noxus's most famous fortress if you squinted really, really hard._

" _I think I see it," his younger self said. He saw the disappointment in his sister's face. "Oh," he continued, "here's why I didn't recognize it. It can't be the Immortal Bastion without the Noxian flag."_

 _He peeled a piece of red kelp from his sack and placed it atop the castle._

" _Now it's the Immortal Bastion."_

Hecarim loomed above them. As always, his expression was a grimace. Karthus levitated himself back upright.

"You lower yourself further," Hecarim growled, "now with childish foolishness."

"Not all of us take pleasure in slaughter," Karthus replied, "what do you want?"

"You know what I want, but the Mist forbids me from it. Now I wish to know what it sees in your brat. It is weak and I am unimpressed."

Hecarim scowled down at Achlys, causing her to whimper.

"She is scarcely over a year in age," Karthus said, "it will still be years before she is able to things on her own, much less fight, or do you suggest I make her a tiny lance so she can pierce the crabs on the shore?"

"You would make a pathetic spearman."

"Did you intend to teach her?"

"No."

"Good, she only just learning how to grab things, she would make an even poorer spearman than me."

Hecarim snorted.

"When will you teach it to fight?" He asked bluntly.

"I don't know, Hecarim, maybe when she can walk on her own and speak."

"And until then you will be its protector. You cannot protect it forever."

"We will be her protectors as long as she needs. You swore on the Mist that you would."

"If we are invaded, I shall destroy all who attempt to harm it, but I have more important tasks for my time than to save it from its own weakness."

Kathus scoffed.

"And what would those tasks be?"

Hecarim turned his gaze towards slope. There, was one of his damned knights starring back down at them. His mount pawed the ground impatiently and wisps of Mist billowed from its nostrils as it snorted.

"We have picked up her trail," the rider reported.

Hecarim's body went still at these words. His head was facing his knight, but his gaze was somewhere beyond. Suddenly, the balefire around him blazed. He raised he weapon aloft and left out a roar before charging up the slope. The ground under his hooves sparked as he led knights further into the heart of the island.

Achlys was crying, so Karthus turned his attention back to her.

"It is safe, Achlys. There is no need to cry, Hecarim is gone."

He picked her up, and as he did, he saw one of Hecarim's enormous hoof prints smashed over his sandy moat. A wave washed up through this breach and pulled away at Achlys's castle.

" _I can still protect her from the waves_ ," Karthus thought bitterly to himself.

Using his feet, he remade the trench as he pat Achlys on the back and hummed a comforting melody. Still, it was many minutes before she finally cried herself out.

"I will be here for you as long as you need me."

With Achlys calm again, Karthus let her back on the sand. As soon as her tiny fingers began to fidget through the sand, she acted as if Hecarim never came. Karthus's face rested at a relieved smile. Achlys was once again busied herself with the beach, until the glint of something blue caught her eye. It was the wraith of a crab. The creature seemed to be unaware that it was dead, so it patrolled the beach just as it had in life. It was fascinating to Achlys.

The ghostly crab scurried along the damp sand towards them. Achlys cooed in excitement and crawled towards it. The crab raised its claws at her approached. It waved them as threateningly as possible, but this only left Achlys giggling.

"Careful," Karthus warned, "if you bother it, it will pinch you."

Despite Hecarim's words still running in his head, he wasn't worried about the crab harming her. It was such a weak spirit, that it couldn't physically manifest. It was a cold light that could respond to basic stimulus and was more akin to the glowing echoes of the leaves on the trees than Karthus's wraiths. At worst, its claws would pass through Achlys's hands and leave a slight sting as though she submerged them in icy water.

So, it was no surprise that when she reached down to grab the ghost, it snapped its claws on her. Achlys let out a shocked "eeh!" as the spectral claw passed through her fingers. She looked up at Karthus with an expression that demanded an explanation.

"I warned you," Karthus said, "now , leave it alone and come back to your castle."

He reached down to pick her up but she waved her arms in protest.

"No!" she exclaimed and reached for the crab again.

Once more its claws passed through her hand and once more, Achlys recoiled at the chill. She furrowed her brow and tried again.

"Achlys," Karthus chided, "it will be the same every time."

"No!"

Karthus watched and by the fifth time the crab pinched her, he wanted to personally evaporate it back into the Mist. With one hand extended toward the tiny spirit, he wrapped his other around Achlys and started to pull her back.

"Ah do!"

From the corner of his vision, he saw a quick glint of blue light in Achlys's eyes. Before he could process what was going on, her hands were glowing that same color light and he could feel the energy radiating from them. He was momentarily stunned by the phenomenon, and during this brief moment of disbelief, she made another attempt at the crab. This time she grabbed the ghostly creature and held it aloft.

Achlys giggled for a moment before hurling the offending spirit into the ocean, where it disappeared below the waves without a splash.

"Eeet!"

Karthus looked down at his daughter in amazement. She touched something no mortals should have been able to. Magic. And not just any magic, magic that could manipulate the energy of the Isles. The rare emotion of elation rose within him.

"You truly are my daughter."

Greetings Summoners,

Thank you for your patience over this unexpected hiatus. Spring has been a wild ride, conventions, wedding planning, and a new job just to name a few. I hope that you all enjoy this chapter. As a thank you for you continued reading, I would like you all to vote on the next chapter. Both events will happen, but which order they happen will effect the other.

1\. Karthus is summoned by the Mist for a Harrowing and must hastily find a babysitter.

2\. Now that he knows his daughter possess magic, Karthus is eager to teach her her first spell.

Please comment or PM me with which option you would like to see first. I will do my best to have this chapter up before the month's end.

Best of luck on the Rift,

-Gwoo


	11. Chapter 11

Since Achlys first displayed magic, Karthus had dedicated himself to devising a way to teach her how to control it. In the days following the tossing of the crab, he watched her intently, and sure enough, he saw her summoning a glowing magic to her hand again and again. Every time she did this, he would tell her "Your hand is glowing with magic. Glow hand," and would raise his hand and do the same. After weeks, she finally associated the words with the action and when he would say the words, she would raise her hand and let the magic flow into it. Now, Karthus knew she was ready to learn a spell.

He brought her outside, so that she would not damage the cathedral if something were to go wrong. He knew that such magic would attract the attention of the restless spirits, so he sent his wraiths out to guard a wide perimeter, keeping just his strongest, and Achlys's favorite, with him. Achlys gripped the hem of his robe as he propped her up and raised his other hand to her eye level. She reached out and grabbed his fingers, babbling as she did.

"Err, err, geh, gers."

"Glow hand, Achlys," he said.

"Ooow and."

There was that familiar glint in her eyes and in a moment, her hands were surrounded by the chilling veil of Isles magic. Karthus loved it when she held his hand and did this. He could feel her. More than just their bodies touching, he could feel her life essence pulsing through her fingers, he could feel the cold rush of magic make his skin tingle, and how when herb life seeped into that magic, it created a jolt of feeling that was as close to the sensation of touch he experienced while alive. It was a beautiful feeling that was uniquely hers. No other soul on the Isles came close to it.

"Very good," he praised her, "now watch,"

With tender care, he freed his hand from her gentle grip and let the balefire wrap around it.

"You will focus on the area you want to strike, and will the magic there."

"Eh?"

"I understand that this is a new concept for you, but I know you are bright enough to learn. Think of it as throwing your ball."

To emphasize the point, he flicked his wrist as though her were tossing her sack ball. The balefire leapt from his fingers and went streaming through the air. They collected at his focused point before bursting in a small explosion. It was odd to cast that spell in such a way. He had long ago learned to condense the energy near the point of the explosion rather than draw it to himself first. It was a far more efficient way, but he could not expect an infant to match his centuries of practice.

"No," Achlys stated with a confused tone as she looked for the ball that wasn't there.

Karthus gently grabbed her wrist and led her arm through the motion.

"Pretend you have the ball. Throw ball."

He let go of her arm and watched as she mimicked the motion alongside him. The magic at her fingertips flickered, but did not leave them.

"You can keep trying," he encouraged her before casting the spell again for her to observe, "think of how the waves pull on you when they go out, that soft, gentle tug you feel around your feet."

He summoned a small spark of balefire to the tip of one finger. Using the utmost care as not to injure his daughter, he ran the flame along the underside of her arm to tease it with the slightest tingle.

Cuuuusshhh," Achlys hissed in the way she always did when she was tickled.

Karthus continued to lead the tiny flame along the length of her arm and up to her fingertips where he siphoned away a small amount of the magic she had gathered there.

"When you cast a spell, it will feel similar to this," he explained.

She just hissed in delight at this sensation.

"Now, let's try again."

"Yea,"

Karthus dispelled his magic and held her arm.

"On the count of three, think of throwing your ball and the tug of the waves. Are you ready? One," he moved her arm through the motion, "two," and again, but now with more force, "three."

Achlys added her own tiny strength to the motion and let out a forceful "eh!"

There was something. Not much, but there was a reaction. A few small wisps flicked from her fingers but quickly dissipated. Despite this, the ball of balefire around her hand had grown noticeably larger.

"Eh, nah, beh, eck!" Achlys babbled in frustration.

"Nobody ever said that learning to control your magic would be easy," Karthus said as he brushed his fingers across her pale hair to soothe her, "but we will try again."

But she would not be calmed. Her babbling turned into a screech and she began to flail her arms wildly. The balefire grew with each motion. Karthus donned an expression of disapproval.

"Achlys, stop. Calm yourself."

"Nah, nah, nah, nah!" she screamed in a yet higher pitch.

Karthus was about to scold her, but his expression quickly turned from disapproval to alarm as the magic ballooned to twice its size in an instant. The tips of her fingers were beginning to turn purple as the buildup of deadly magic began to seep into her skin. Tendrils of balefire lashed out in haphazard directions while the wraiths screamed alongside Achlys. Karthus was not idle for another moment.

"Achlys! Achlys, focus on me!"

He grabbed her fingers. Fear shone in her bright eyes. He raised her arm and began to try and siphon the magic away from her as before. The results were like a damn bursting. At the first release, the rest of the magic flowed forth faster than Karthus could acclimate it to his will. The lich felt a cold burning as the magic ripped over his fingers. The missile flew straight upwards until it finally dissipated, fading into the Mist.

Karthus finally looked back down at his hands and let out a soft "oh?" The magic had peeled away his skin, revealing the aged bone beneath. The edges of the wound were still smoldering green. Karthus was unworried though, his skin would regenerate back in time, but still, he wondered for a moment when was the last time he had been injured like this. He could spare no more than a second for these thoughts though, Achlys needed to be seen to.

She was hiccupping pitifully. She took a gasp of air and then began to wail. Karthus hugged her to his chest and pat her head.

"Achlys, Achlys, you are safe now. I have you. Shhh, I have you," he cooed.

Achlys gripped the edge of his robe and shook as she sobbed. Karthus gave a nervous glance at her fingers, fearing that they were as damaged as his were. Mercifully, they were still in one piece. They appeared discolored as though they were bruised, but warmth was returning to them. When the magic was released, it was still in tune with her own energy, allowing it to pass over her mostly harmlessly. If Karthus had still had his lungs, he would have sighed. In the place of a sigh, a small smile found its way to his face. If the missile was still tuned to her when it was launched, it meant one thing.

"Achlys. Everything will be well. You did it. You cast a spell. I am proud of you. However," and he hugged his crying daughter tighter as he said this, "I believe I pushed you to this too quickly. We will practice more with simple magic before we try the spell again, but Achlys, I am happy and I am proud."

I'm still here guys. I haven't abandoned either of my stories and plan on finishing them. This summer was overwhelming with the amount of things that needed to be done but thing have settling down again. I plan to return to writing on a more regular schedule and maybe starting a new story about Malphite or a one-shot revolving around Poppy. What do you think? Are either of these ideas you all would be interested in reading? Best of luck on the Rift.

-Gwoo


	12. Chapter 12

"Well done, Achlys," Karthus said.

Achlys held the tiny concentration of magic of her hand. The glow of the balefire made the few teeth in her smile appear to shine blue.

"Now we put it down. Put down."

From where he was kneeling beside her, Karthus held a ball in his hand and placed it on the ground to show her the motions she was to mimic.

"Ut own," she babbled along.

Achlys put the concentration down just as easily as if it had been the ball Karthus was holding. Her hand ceased glowing, and the balefire she had amassed dissipated harmlessly within seconds.

"You improve with each attempt," Karthus praised her, "are you ready to do it again?"

Before Achlys could answer, a watch wraith came hissing inside to alert them to a welcomed intruder. Karthus scooped up his daughter and composed himself not a moment before Elise threw open the door.

"Where is she," she called out, "where is our little bug?"

Achlys squirmed in Karthus's arms and reached out towards Elise.

"Ah-ah Eh-leh!"

"There she is!"

Karthus handed over Achlys to the spider woman, who gave the child a hug.

"You're growing so big and so pretty. I don't know if I will be able to call you my little bug anymore," she cooed at the giggling baby.

"You arrived ahead of schedule," Karthus commented.

"I had a favorable wind," Elise responded without taking her attention off Achlys, "and I didn't want to miss being with her today."

"The anniversary of my finding her."

"Exactly, we may not know when her birthday is, but we can still celebrate the anniversary of her finding. Achlys look," Elise twitched the spindles on her back. At this command, half a dozen spiders the size of cats came skittering in, each carrying a package, "I brought you presents."

"Is all this pomp necessary?" Karthus asked.

"No," Elise responded as she sat the child on the floor, "but it's amusing for me."

Elise took the packages from the spiders and lined them up before Achlys. She pushed one closer.

"We will start with this one," Elise said she opened the box and handed its content to Achlys, "new hair ribbons. Your hair is getting long enough for bows. I hope Karthus ties it up for you. Do you want me to teach him?"

"Yea," Achlys as she triumphantly held up a fist full of ribbons.

She dropped them all in a heap before her. Red, black, silver, green, and blue were all passed over before her fist gripped the purple ribbon. She held it up to Elise.

"You want the purple one? Such a royal color suits you," Elise doted as the gathered up the wisps of Achly's white hair.

"Urp-eh," Achlys mimicked as she relinquished the ribbon.

"Pay attention, Karthus," Elise said, "her hair is going to need more attention as it grows longer."

"Unless it is kept short," Karthus retorted.

"Don't you dare. I can tell already that she's going to have beautiful long hair."

Elise finished tying Achlys's hair into two small pigtails.

"Aww, you're so cute, I could just devour you," Elise cooed.

Karthus gave the spider a stern look, which she completely ignored.

"And there are more gifts for you as well; clothes, toys, a real book, written by a real author."

"The stories I have written for her have been serviceable," Karthus objected.

"You attempts at writing for children have been valiant, but she needs something with more excitement than your dour tales."

"She has never made any indication that she hasn't enjoyed The Three Clever Wraiths."

Elise let out a sigh and turned back to helping Achlys open her remaining gifts. There were over a dozen outfits, ranging from simple to so fancy and excessive that no infant could be comfortable in it for more than an hour. She received a plush of a snake longer than she was and several book by these so called "real authors." And though Karthus disapproved in Elise's choice of fashion, books, and pretty much everything, he couldn't suppress the feeling of pleasure he felt at seeing Achlys giggling and happy. The year had gone by quickly now that he had something other than preaching to the dead to occupy his time. It was a pleasant change of pace.

"This one is extra special," Elise said as she took the last package from her spider, "and it's a good thing that you have teeth for it now."

Achlys tugged at the paper wrapping, tearing it open piece by little piece, until finally a little box was left. There was a faint glow of rune written along the edges of the box, with one forming a large seal on the top.

"What magic have you brought her," he asked, voice slightly tinged with concern, "she is still learning the principles."

"Only the magic of sweets," Elise answered, "the magic here is nothing more than a seal of preservation. How else was the cake to survive the voyage?"

"Cake? You brought her cake?"

"What is a celebration without it? It's only a slice though. I didn't think you would want any. Go on Achlys, open it."

With Elise's aid, the baby opened the box. For a moment, her eyes seemed to shine as intensely as the moon when she beheld the surprise confection.

"Ech-ake," Achlys murmured.

Her gaze was transfixed. Pristine white vanilla cake, glistening frosting, and a bright pink raspberry on top, all of it was captivating. Without further hesitation, she reached out, grabbed a fistful, and brought it to her mouth. She smiled and went for a second helping. Within seconds, her face was covered with frosting.

"Cake," she triumphantly proclaimed.

"I'm so glad I can spoil you without consequence," Elise sighed.

Achlys giggled and looked up at her father. She offered him a fistful of freshly squished cake. Not wanting to ruin her joy, Karthus accepted the mess.

"Thank you, Achlys," he said.

"Fah," she gooed with a smile.

"I hope you continue to be this happy."

Happy Halloween Summoners,

This chapter is a little short and goofy but I really wanted to write something fun and quick for Halloween. I decided to go with a Birthday party thing for Achlys so I could do double duty and with League a happy 10th birthday. Cheers dudes! I'll get back on track with this story now, as promised. Coming up, will Karthus be able to find a babysitter when he is called for a Harrowing? Stay tuned.

Best of luck on the Rift,

Gwoo


	13. Chapter 13

Karthus could feel the call radiate through him. The Mist was summoning him. It was time for a Harrowing.

Karthus's soul ached to go forth over the ocean and bring new souls back to his congregation. His wraiths were restless, his magic welled within him, and his thoughts turned towards the sea. And yet, a new uneasiness stirred within him for the first time since his new existence in the Isles. He was not ready for this Harrowing.

There was no fear of being destroyed while he was out liberating souls; few mortal weapons affected him. No. He worried that some foolish living person in their futile attempt to prevent the inevitable would misfire their pistol and hit the very vulnerable, very mortal Achlys. The thought was so unbearable that Karthus decided to do what he previously thought unthinkable. He would leave his daughter with a babysitter.

Elise was his first choice. Achlys was comfortable around her and more importantly, Elise seemed to genuinely care about the wellbeing of his daughter. However, she had departed the Isles several days ago and would not return again for quite some time. Hecarim was another option. Karthus could not think of a more ill-fitting guardian, but he knew the Horseman had sworn to protect Achlys. However, he too was gone, at the first sign of the Harrowing, he had called his Iron Order to him and sped out across the waves. It was much the same with every other spirit Karthus considered leaving Achlys with. The Chronicler was summoned to record the names of the slain. The Fire Keepers were called from the ruins of the lighthouse to lead the way. The Rekindler, summoned. The Mason, called upon. The Kraken Caller, already searching the sea for stray vessels. This left Karthus with one undesirable option left.

Rather than put off this unfortunate meeting, he resigned himself and prepared to bargain this unpleasant specter head on. He packed Achlys a bag of her clothes, food, and a few toys and books, but he was careful to leave her favorites safe and sound in his cathedral. Lastly, he picked up his daughter and hoisted her onto his back.

"Go?" she asked him.

"We are going to the sunken capital."

Karthus and Achlys could hear the great host of spirits before they saw them. The air was quivering with the cacophonous wailing and screeching of the impending Harrowing. Karthus loomed above the cliff side, and looked down at the mass of spirits in the ancient harbor. They were a mess of bright blue forms, crawling over each other to be taken up by the Mist and carried out to sea. Achlys's mouth hung agape.

"Wow," she commented.

"It is an impressive sight," Karthus said, "and someday you will join us, my dear daughter, but not this time. I am sorry, but I need to leave you with someone here."

Karthus descended into the city, seeking her to-be babysitter. Spirits passed on either side of them, making their way towards the sea, tugged on by tethers of Mist. Ancient guards of a long lost land, drowned pirates, Noxian soldiers, bristling wolves; all answered the call with a ravenous eagerness. But Karthus's gaze was fixated on the lone spirit standing atop a ruined tower of the Arcane Vaults. The specter remained still and instead watched the ethereal procession below with a dull interest. His expression changed however when he spotted Karthus below.

Clutching Achlys to his chest, Karthus waited at the entrance to the ruined vaults. Achlys was growing uneasy, burying her face in his shoulders and looking back longingly towards the other spirits. Karthus stroked her hair.

"Be still," he cooed in her ear, "fear is natural, but you are stronger than it. I know this."

The air grew still at Thresh's approach. The steady steps of his boots on the pavements sent ripples of dread through the stagnant air. As he approached, he donned a welcoming smile that was brimming with malice.

"Karthus," Thresh greeted with an exaggerated gesture of open arms, "and little Achlys, this is a pleasant surprise. I expected you two to be half way out to sea for the baby's first Harrowing, unless you weren't summoned? Oh, but that isn't the case is it, Karthus? I see can the Mist curling around you. It wants you. So, why don't you go?"

Karthus could tell by the devious gleam in Thresh's eyes that he knew the reason for this visit. It was likely he knew from the moment he saw Karthus break off from the procession, but he wanted to hear Karthus say the reason aloud.

"Achlys cannot accompany me," Karthus stated bluntly.

"Is that so," Thresh responded, "what is preventing her?"

"Nothing is preventing her."

"Then I see no problem," Thresh cut in, "take her with you. This will be the perfect opportunity for you to teach her how to rip the soul from a body. I may even accompany you. I am in need of some entertainment."

Thresh moved to leave, but Karthus held out a hand to stop him. Thresh cast Karthus façade of a surprised expression.

"Karthus," Thresh continued to bluff, "what is the meaning of this?"

"I," Karthus spoke up, "am what is preventing her from going."

"Shameful," Thresh mocked with a shake of his head, "to think that you would stifle her growth and deny her this chance to serve the Isles."

"But it would be more shameful if she was to perish prematurely at the hands of some mortal," Karthus snapped back, unamused by the Warden's game, "and if there is shame in either outcome, I would chose the one in which Achlys thrives."

"Then leave her in your cathedral to await your return. If your mind was already made up, then why come to bother me with your guilty mind."

Again Thresh made to move and again Karthus stopped him by moving to stand directly in the way.

"Because," Karthus began.

"Because, what?" Thresh cut off in a tone that was a mixture of the previous feigned annoyance and anticipation.

"Because, I do not want her to be left alone. I want her protected."

"And?"

"Damn it, Thresh. You know what."

Thresh cocked his head to the side.

"Do I?" he asked.

Karthus locked his gaze with the smug specter. The awful union of frustration and loathing roiled within him and atop of that, the call of Harrowing continued to tug on his soul. Only the steady sound of Achlys's whimpering kept him grounded and focused on his mission.

"Thresh," Karthus began again, "I am asking you to watch over her until I return."

The balefire around Thresh flared momentarily as his entire disposition shifted.

"Is that all," Thresh asked in an abruptly cordial tone, "you should have said so to begin with. I accept."

Thresh dropped his lantern and weapon, allowing them to hang in the air alongside him, and held out his arms expectantly for Achlys. Karthus scowled as he watched Thresh curl his fingers in sickening gesture of expectation. Karthus gave Achlys a final hug before handing her and her pack off to Thresh.

"I will return as soon as the Mist permits," he promised.

Achlys looked back at him with confused sadness. Her eyes were beginning to tear up as she reached back towards him.

"Fah?" she asked.

Thresh grabbed her and pulled her back to him. Instantly, Achlys's confusion turned to panic.

"Fah! No!" she protested and began to squirm, "No!"

"Achlys, please," Karthus tried to soothe, "be still. I will come back."

"No! Want Fah!"

Guilt was welling up within the lich almost as strongly as the Mist's call.

"There is no need to thrash like this, little Achlys," Thresh chided, "I have not done you any harm."

As Karthus watched Achlys wriggle in Thresh's grasp, he could almost hear the word "yet" being added to the end of that statement. But whether that word was imagined or not, Karthus did have a final warning for the other specter.

"And you will never," Karthus stated boldly, "or I will-"

"Or you will do things to me that even I could not conceive. Yes, I remember your threat," Thresh cut off, "now hurry off, Karthus, your Harrowing awaits."

Karthus ran his hand over Achlys's hair once more.

"Be brave," he promised, "I will come back."

He turned to leave and Achlys struggled to follow him. Thresh grabbed her arm, forcing it through a waving motion. She began to cry.

"Say 'bye-bye,' Achlys," he said, "bye-bye, Karthus."

Karthus didn't turn to acknowledge this. He didn't want to see his daughter so distressed. Achlys's struggles grew more frantic until Karthus was out of sight. She screamed until her pale cheeks were bright red and streaked with tears. She kicked, she pulled, she thrashed about, and through it all, she repeated her protest of "no!" Thresh proceeded calmly with the ghost of a smile crossing his face.

"Such a temper you have," he said as he carried her into the ruins, "are you spending more time with Hecarim than I thought?"

She didn't answer and he didn't care. Thresh carried her to a safe room above the Vaults before setting her down on the ground. At once, Achlys pulled herself to her feet and ran as fast as he tiny, unstable legs could carry her towards the doorway. Thresh imitated a sigh of disappointment.

"No running away now."

Thresh threw out his chains to block her escape. The blade reached the door before her and clanged loudly as it sunk into the ancient frame. Startled by the sudden noise, Achlys stumbled backwards. Thresh curled his fingers around the chain at his hip, infusing the whole length of it with his magic. They sprang to life at his will, crossing themselves over the doorway to further barricade his charge inside. Achlys regained her footing and tried to get through the barrier. She tugged at the chains, screeching and babbling angry nonsense the whole time.

"Cry all you wish, Achlys," Thresh said as he reclined onto a piece of rubble, "I can wait all eternity."

Achlys continued her ineffective assault lasted half an hour until, at last defeated, she fell down and began to cry.

"Are you finished," Thresh asked as he leaned forward in his seat, "it was an entertaining enough display, but I did have other things I wanted to attend to."

Achlys's puffy, tear streaked face whipped around and she gave Thresh what was perhaps the nasties expression she had produced in her entire life.

"Oh, now there's a face," Thresh said, "do you do this for your father as well, or am I special?"

Even though she couldn't fully understand his words, Achlys understood his tone; mocking. She had had enough. The glint of green shone brightly through her teary eyes as balefire rapidly formed around her hand. With an unintelligible shout, she hurled this amassed magic at Thresh. With little more than a flick of his wrist, Thresh called his lantern to his hand. It radiated its sickly light, filling the room with energy. Achlys's pitiful attack instantly fizzled out under this new pressure, leaving its caster to stare up at Thresh in terror.

Well, well, Achlys," Thresh said with a smile, "that was interesting."

He walked over and knelt down to be closer to eye level to her. Achlys, stunned, remained still and fixated on him.

"I'm going to change my plans just for you. No need to thank me, we will both enjoy this."

He held his lantern up to her. In its light, her pale skin glowed as brightly as though she were also a spirit.

"Achlys," he asked, "have you ever seen a soul?"

Greetings Summoners,

I promise Thresh won't hurt her. However, that is not why this note is here. I am here to say that I will be at PAX East next month. I'm working on a special/stupid Darius cosplay for the occasion. If any of you will be there, dm me. I would love to meet my readers.

Best of luck on the Rift,

-Gwoo


End file.
